


with the fume of sighs

by slvtherxn



Series: snippets of life [3]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Drinking, M/M, being in love, that kind of stuff, they are ridiculously in love, this is so sappy that I almost threw up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 00:06:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19239826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slvtherxn/pseuds/slvtherxn
Summary: Of course he had had invited Even along, but Isak didn’t need to be held back by his tired, sober boyfriend.(Isak comes home drunk and sappy to Even. They’re in love.)





	with the fume of sighs

**Author's Note:**

> another plotless fluff piece because that’s all i have been writing lately   
> title from shakespeare’s romeo and juliet; ‘love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs’   
> this takes place during isak’s russ time, or maybe he just wants to party. your decision (:

Even can hear Isak fumbling with their lock, and  tumbling through the front door even all the way back in their room, long before he sees him. It isn’t a surprise, really. Isak has been out partying with his friends. It would be more surprising if he wasn’t stumbling through the kitchen. 

 

Of course he’d invited Even, but really, Even was tired, and he had a university film project to do. Besides, he wasn’t supposed to drink, and it wasn’t as if he couldn’t party without drinking, but Isak didn’t need to be held back by his tired, sober boyfriend. Isak was still barely eighteen, and he has to deal with so much; he deserves to have fun every now and then. 

 

Curled up in bed, Even sits up just enough to lean against the headboard when he hears Isak’s feet dragging through the kitchen. Despite the implications of how wasted Isak would be, it still brings a soft smile to his lips. 

 

True to his thoughts, Isak wobbles through the bedroom door a couple minutes later, tossing his coat somewhere nearby— very unlike him, usually Isak has nice laundry baskets and berates Even for throwing his clothes everywhere. Even rubs his eyes, sitting up properly so he can get a better look at his boyfriend from where he stands by the door. Isak is very concentrated on getting his shoes off, his eyebrows scrunching together in that familiar way, his tongue peeking out of his mouth just slightly, so he doesn’t notice Even’s eyes on him until several moments later. 

 

When their eyes meet, Isak breaks into a giant, dopey grin, and Even can’t help the soft laugh that leaves his lips. Isak, too focused on Even, almost falls in the process of untying his shoes, and giggles, looking back down at them until he takes them off. 

 

“Hi,  _ baby, _ ” Isak beams, drawing out the vowels of the words, flopping unceremoniously down next to Even a mere second later. One of his arms winds around Even’s waist, pulling him back into a horizontal position, squishing as close as he can possibly get.   
  
Isak smells like sweat mixed with weed and beer, and the faintest hint of Jonas’ cologne still clings to his clothes. It’s very boyish, and very Isak, and of course, it’s not the most pleasant smell ever, but Even sticks his face right into Isak’s hair and takes a deep inhale. 

 

“Hello,” he greets back, his hands finding their way around to rest on his boyfriend’s back, to snuggle him in close. 

 

“I missed you,” Isak tells him, the words slurring gently together. He’s much drunker than Even assumed. He presses a sloppy kiss on Even’s shoulder, making Even’s mouth curl up into a soft smile. The sadness from earlier melts away from the front of his brain into more of a dull ache in his bones. 

 

“I missed you too,” he responds truthfully. He’d never ask Isak to stay home and miss out on a party he wanted to go to, but he had definitely missed having his boyfriend around. There’s something sad about being alone when you aren’t used to it anymore. Since Isak left, he’d watched all the Snapchat updates and Instagram stories of the party, and while he knew he didn’t go for good reason, it still made him feel a little lonely that most of his friends are out having a good time. Now, though, Isak’s weight on top of him is heavy and comforting, the warmth surrounding them both. 

 

“Sorry you couldn’t come,” Isak mumbles, pressing his lips to every part of Even’s skin that he can reach without moving his head. 

 

“That’s okay,” Even murmurs, as reassuring as he can be. He strokes a hand through Isak’s hair, pulling him in close. “I wanted you to have fun. You wouldn’t have had as much fun with your sober boyfriend following you around.”

 

“ _ What? _ ” Isak gasps, far too loud and dramatic for the quiet dark room. 

 

Rolling his eyes, Even shushes Isak quietly, though he has to admit, he has a soft spot for the dramatic flair. 

 

“What?” Even echoes back, amused. 

 

“I  _ always  _ have fun with you,” Isak insists, his words half muffled from where he’s shoved his nose into Even’s shoulder.

 

“That’s sweet, baby,” Even whispers, and Isak squirms a little, until he settles, properly snuggled into Even’s chest, “I’m glad you had fun with your friends, though.” 

 

“My friends?” Isak repeats, and then he pauses. His eyebrows scrunch together, and he jabs a finger into Even’s chest. “Well… you’re my  _ best _ friend _. _ ” 

 

He says it with so much sincerity that Even could never doubt he means it. It’s so genuine, actually, that Even’s eyes start to prick with tears just from how nice it is. Is he really so sappy that he’s going to cry just because Isak called him his best friend? Maybe. He can’t help it, okay? 

 

“You’re my best friend too,” he murmurs, even though it’s more than likely that Isak won’t remember by the morning. 

 

Isak giggles, presses a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to Even’s neck. “Yeah?” He says, and Even thinks that’s the end of that, except he keeps talking. “You  _ are.  _ And I always have so much fun with you, drunk or… the opposite of drunk.” 

 

“Sober,” Even quietly substitutes. 

 

“Sober,” Isak repeats, too loud again, “Because… you’re so  _ cool.  _ And I love being around you. Even just chilling. And you’re so  _ hot. _ ” 

 

Even feels weirdly emotional. Maybe dramatically so, since Isak is just drunk rambling, but sometimes he forgets that Isak loves him just as much as he loves Isak. It seems impossible, but somewhere logically, it’s true. 

 

He shifts Isak a little closer. He wants to say something teasing back, joke with Isak a bit, but there’s a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes and Isak’s face pressed into his neck. “That’s so sweet,” he decides on, just light enough that he can play it off as teasing, “You’re so sweet.” 

 

Isak elbows him in the ribs. “Next time you should come,” he tells Even, as if he knows what Even had been thinking the whole time he was away. 

 

“Okay,” Even finally agrees, shifting Isak around in his arms until he can kiss his head. “If you want me to come, I will.” 

 

Self-satisfied and sleepy, Isak hums. “Love you,” he mumbles, voice slurred and thick with sleep. “G’night.” He tilts his chin up, asking for a kiss, and of course, Even  _ has  _ to oblige. 

 

Smiling to himself, Even starts to close his eyes, but immediately opens them again. “Nope,” he shakes his head, starting to detach Isak from him, “Nope, you have to brush your teeth.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
